Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Albania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lightning Bolt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
The Pretty Things,
Fatback Band,
The Young Rascals,
Delta 5,
Fluxion,
Morten Harket,
Niagra,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Gong,
Model 500,
a-ha,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Donald Byrd,
Whodini,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Patti Smith,
Franke,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Urselle,
Basic Channel,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Hood,
Inner City,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barry Ungar,
Fear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
Bronski Beat,
Sandy B,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suburban Knight,
Davy DMX,
Scientists,
Bush Tetras,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
The Vogues,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Swell Maps,
Masters at Work,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
Q65,
This Heat,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.